


The Emperor's New Conquest

by theCelticMyst



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Bad Smut Bonanza, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theCelticMyst/pseuds/theCelticMyst
Summary: This is my entry for the Dragon Age Fan Fiction Bad Smut Contest for February 2018.  This is bad.   It is meant to be bad, eye rolling cringe worthy, and over the top.  If you aren't laughing at how bad it is, I didn't do my job.  Please do not read it thinking this is supposed to be enjoyable smut, it is supposed to be bad.   It is the summit at the Winter Ball and Orlais isn't the only thing Gaspard plans to conquer.





	The Emperor's New Conquest

Euphrosyne, Syne to her friends, Trevelyan gazed at her reflection in the full length, ornate mirror.  She wore a low cut bodice with steal boning that would act as protection in case of a fight, while lifting her breasts to optimal effect.  They were round and plump and now on display for all of Orlais.  Josephine had wanted to make the dress red, to show the daring of the Inquisition as well as match the dress uniforms of those who were going to the ball at the Winter Palace.  She had demurred, though.  Red was too daring for a pseudo-maiden like herself.  Instead she wore a light blue that matched the color of her eyes and offset her golden blonde curls, which now tumbled down her luscious back to her pert bottom; a bottom that made men drool as they dreamed of spanking it or doing other naughty things to it.  Her dress had a gold sash around it, which meant she now matched Orlais’ colors.  The skirt was full, but had a slit in case she had to fight.

            She was going to the ball at the Winter Palace as the date of Duke Gaspard.  Blackwall told her that the man was a villain and that she needed to be careful.  A pseudo-maiden like herself should never be on the arm of such a blackguard.  The thought both scared and thrilled her.  She was a pseudo-maiden because she had had intercourse once with one of her father’s stable boys, but it hadn’t been good.  He had put his pickle in her, but it hadn’t been like a cucumber, it had been more like a baby carrot.  She hadn’t been completed, just bored; so it didn’t count.  She’d become involved with Blackwall for several months now and had hoped that he would one day take her into his many arms and shake her plumtree with his mighty stick.  He had yet to do so, though.  She wasn’t even sure if his stick was adequate to please her as he did nothing more than pin her to one of the beams in the stables and kiss her with his lush lips.

            She had thought of going to Iron Bull and impaling herself on his mighty sword.  Yet so many other women had, so it would be passé.  She didn’t want their sloppy seconds, she wanted to know that the sword being plunged into her velvet sheath was meant for her alone and not just because she was there.  Besides, Blackwall was more of her type.  She loved dark-haired older men.  Older men were also supposed to be more experience and viral.  He had yet to show her that side yet.

            She had relieved herself with Sera, letting the sweet, irrelevant elf suck on her plump peaches and touch her holy chalice as she slid her own silken skin against Syne’s and they twined their sensuous tongues together.  A woman had to relieve her… tensions after all.  Yet she still yearned to have a mighty trebuchet assault her feminine walls.  She’d just have to find a way to get Blackwall to do that tonight after she stopped Corypheus’ assassin.

            Corypheus planned to kill Empress Celene, which was fine.  They just had to make sure someone was ruling Orlais and defending it against Corypheus.  As she thought about whom she should support, Syne lifted her skirts to reveal smooth, silken, strong legs.  She sheathed two daggers there before going to meet those who would go with her to the palace.  Those would be her advisers, Blackwall, Sera, and Dorian.  They waited for her now as she made sure her hair was perfect and walked out.

 

 

            Gaspard was waiting for Euphrosyne as her carriage pulled up to his estate.  He wore a black doublet and tunic along with a gold mask to hide his features.  She could tell his dark hair was close crop and he had a trim beard.  She wondered what features the mask might be hiding.  He was dark and dangerous, but he made her bosoms quiver.

            “Hello my dear,” he gave her a long assessing look, letting his gaze linger on her low décolletage before skimming up to her beautiful, unmasked face.  She found her skin heating where his eyes lavished her.  It was as if it were his large, masculine hands touching her and not just his blazing blue eyes.  “I must say that I have been looking forward to _dancing_ with you tonight.”  The way he said dancing made it sound dirty, as if he were going to throw her on the ground and use his mighty man sword on her, taking her before all of Orlais.  “I must say that my _ambassador_ looks forward to peace talks with you.”

The thought made parts of her wet that she had to remind herself were not for him.  She was with Blackwall and it was only his man bits that she wanted in her.  Perhaps she’d just become impatient waiting for him to take her quasi-maiden head.  She was sure that Gaspard was the hideous monster Blackwall claimed under his mask.  That would help.  “Do you Orlesians never take off your masks?  I don’t know if I can ever… dance… with a man whose face I haven’t seen.”

“Of course we do, my golden goddess.  They are part of the game.  If I take it off, will you give me a kiss?”  He smiled tauntingly, like the dark villain she knew him to be.

“I…”  She crossed her arms, not noticing that she’d pushed her breasts up further into his view.  “That would be scandalous, my lord.  What type of woman do you think I am?”

“Oh… we’ll see by the end of the night,” he lifted a finger and caressed her fascinating face with his delightful digit.  It left trails of tingling heat as it explored her perfect features.  “I look forward to discovering you more.”

She found herself wanting to climb up on his lap and to give him the kiss he’d asked for… and perhaps more.  Heat was blooming in her and she was becoming wanton.  “You do?”

He pulled off his mask and revealed the handsome, chiseled, dark features of a fairytale prince gone bad.  She gasped delicately and fell back against the cushions of their carriage.  All of his masks should be burned for daring to hide that face.  “I’ll collect on the kiss later,” was the last thing she heard before she swooned delicately.

 

When Syne came back to her senses, they were at the Winter Palace and Gaspard had put his hateful mask back on.  He helped her out of the coach and escorted her to the palace gates.  “Wait until they get a load of us.”

“I’m sure they’ve never seen such a radiant and scandalous couple,” she agreed.  “We are like a dark god of the underworld and his fertility, nature goddess wife… or something.”  She placed her hand on his arm.  The bicep was firm and well defined, as if the Maker had chiseled him rather than him being born of mortal parents.  He led her into the ballroom where they were formally introduced and she greeted Empress Celene.  She Syne felt disappointed that the empress less impressive than her cousin.  Then, much to her disappointment, Gaspard left her to play his little games while she consulted with her councilors.

She talked to Cassandra who had seen nothing and just griped about having to be at a ball.  She then talked to Sera who knew something was up with the servants.  Sera noticed something else off about her.  “Ya need me to help you relieve you tensions tonight, Lady Herald?  Blackwall’s obviously still not greasing his bronto with you.  You look tense.”

“I have to find the assassin,” Syne reminded her.  “I… well, I was in the coach with villainous Gaspard and he… no, I can not.  He is a bad, bad man.”

“I don’t know, he could be a good man, if you know what I mean,” Sera made the subtext text.  “I don’t go for those with danglies, but you do.  If Blackwall won’t give you a ride on his mighty charger tonight, maybe Gaspard will.”

“I couldn’t…” Syne gently sighed and threw the back of her hand up to her forehead.  “It would be wrong.”  She kept that thought in mind as she went to talk to Blackwall.  He was chatting with another Orlesian.

“I know you,” the Orlesian was insisting.

“You’re mistaken,” Blackwall insisted.  “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Are you sure?” Syne walked up to them.  “I meet all sorts of people; it’s hard to keep them strait sometimes.”

“I’m sure,” Blackwall persevered.  “What do you need of me, my darling daisy?”

“Have you seen anything interesting?”  She wondered if any of her companions were actually trying to spy for her. 

“No, these nobles are fools who are also boring,” he stroked his beard.  “We should spend our time doing better things.”

“Like what?”  Did he mean better things together… like vanquishing her pseudo-maidenhood?

“Like finding where Corypheus is hiding,” he grumbled.

“Oh?” She tried to hide her disappointment.  Maybe Blackwall secretly had a thing for Corypheus and was saving his meat Popsicle for him.  “I have to save Orlais first.  Will you dance with me later?”

“Whenever you want,” he swore and kissed her cheek.

After leaving her companions, she visited the three people vying for power in Orlais.  Brialla wanted her help in saving her people.  Celene’s ladies in waiting talked to her instead of Celene.  That was an insult.  She was trying to save the empress’ life and the woman wouldn’t even talk to her.  Then she saw Gaspard out on the balcony.

“There you are, my sunshine,” he held a glass out to her which she took.  He told her all of the reasons he was the rightful emperor while one of his rough, masculine hands lightly caressed her bared, delicate skin.  She shivered at his touch and heat bloomed in her again. 

“So Celene stole your throne,” she deduced.  “She sounds so… manipulative.”

“She is and not to be trusted,” he insisted as he moved even closer, causing her bosoms to quiver even more.  “You can trust me,” he whispered into her ear.  “I will make a wonderful… ally and would see to your every need.”

She almost dropped her cup.  “What sort of alliance are you proposing, my lord,” she set the cup down.

“That will be up to you… and me… after I have presented all of my assets to you,” he swore.  She felt her sacred chalice growing wet yet again and wondered just how large his assets were.

“We will speak again after I found the assassin, then.”  She needed to leave before she asked him to play the Maker and Andraste with her.

 

 

She did find the assassin.  It was Gaspard’s sister, the one with the hideous haircut.  She didn’t stop Florianne from killing Celene, though.  She realized if she let the assassination take place, she could put Gaspard on the throne.  He was the better warrior of the two.  What was Celene’s plan to stop Corypheus, flirt with him?  Actually… that might work, why hadn’t she tried that?

She fought Florianne and the Venatori the duchess had kept around.  When they were all dead, Syne marched back into the ballroom.  Her hair and dress were still perfect, although Florianne’s blood now dripped from her daggers.  She spotted Gaspard immediately.  Somehow in the fight, he had lost his shirt and now stood with his hands on his hips.  He had a perfectly chiseled chest and six pack.  Celene’s lady and waiting’s dresses had become torn, but they were gathered around Gaspard, each of them touching him.  One lounged at his feet, her hand on his leg.  The second one knelt before him with her hands on those magnificent abs.  The third stood by his side with a hand on his shoulder.  Syne felt her perfectly shaped shoulders droop.  Now that he had his throne, Gaspard was obviously finding his entertainment elsewhere.  She cleaned off her daggers and went to the balcony to be alone.

No one would let her be alone, though.  First, Morrigan came out to talk to her to tell her that Gaspard had assigned her to the Inquisition.

“You’re welcome among us,” Syne graciously accepted the arcane adviser. 

“We shall see,” Morrigan curtsied and left.

Then Blackwall came out.  “Rough night I see.”

“I just let the empress die,” she felt guilty about that now.

“I told you not to,” Blackwall was very, very unhappy about that.  “You could have saved her if you wanted to.”

“Yes, she could have,” Gaspard walked out onto the balcony.  He still hadn’t found his shirt.  “She knows how to play the game, though.  Don’t you, my golden goddess?”  He lifted one of her golden curls and brought it to his lips.  “Although no one should cover that face with a mask.” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Blackwall challenged.  “Syne is with me.”

“I need to… talk… with the Inquisitor, privately,” Gaspard declared.  “Plus, she owes me a dance.  Go away so I might do so.”

“If you think I’m going to let a black hearted demon like you…”  Blackwall bristled.

“Go,” Syne ordered.  “I’ll be fine.  It’s just a dance and a negotiation.  I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Very well, my lady.  I know you’re honorable and wouldn’t do anything you’d regret later,” Blackwall left.

“That was quite the mistake on his part if he thinks you’re his,” Gaspard stepped closer and pulled her against him, his hands on her elegant waist.  She could feel his love muscle bulging against her.

“I thought you were with the ladies in waiting,” she pointed out. 

“Why would I want them, when I could be with you,” he chuckled softly.

“You aren’t with me,” she protested.  “I’m dating Blackwall and you’re still a vile villain.”

“A villain?” He kissed her neck, causing her to shiver.  “You like your men dark and dangerous, don’t you?  Once you go to the dark side that is where you’ll abide.”  He gripped her shoulders and spun her around.  “I believe you also still owe me a kiss.”

“I do,” she softly murmured as his lips covered hers.  His mouth viper snaked and struck her own appendage, waking her to a new sensuality as she could feel fireworks going off in her as Gaspard’s mouth plundered hers.  She wound her arms around him and pulled him even closer.

“Oh, Syne,” he growled when he released her lips. 

She wobbled on her feet and had to grab the nearby railing for support.  “Wow,” she touched a hand to her lips.  He had somehow claimed her just with his kiss.  She’d never been kissed like that.  “Do I get my dance as well?”

He pulled her back into his arms pressing her scantily clad chess to his.  “Oh, yes, we shall dance.  I shall dance with you as you’ve never been danced before.  Then I shall, ravish you right here so you will know that you have been conquered by the Emperor of Orlais and when Orlais and the Herald come together we shall create something to be feared.”  He began a complicated waltz with her, moving her across the balcony.  With each step, he somehow worshipped the goddess of lust and fertility.  Syne was ready to throw her clothes off right there and then and beg him to ravish her.  At the same time, she knew that she had gone to the dark side and with this villainous man was where she belonged.

As the song ended, Syne felt Gaspard’s hand snake under her skirt.  The feel of his skin on hers made her shudder in delight.  She felt him unsheathe one of her daggers and her breath quickened.  Then he threw off his mask, showing off his sensuously delightful features, those of a man who knew what he wanted and didn’t care who got hurt while he took it.  Then he held the dagger in front of her.  It was long and thick.  “Are you going to use that on me?”  She grabbed his hands where they held the dagger and flicked out her tongue, running the tip along the blade.  “I’m a pseudo-maiden; you’ll have to be gentle with me… the first time.”

He let out a little growl of approval, the growl of a fox calling for its mate.  “That depends on what your call gentle.”  He used the tip of the dagger to cut the lacings on her dress, freeing her milky white desire mounds.  His large, manly hands cupped her woman mountains as his lips left trails of conquest across her exposed skin until he reached the peak of one of her ivory domes and suckled it as she cried her praises to the prophetess she was the herald of.  Her head dipped back, her golden curls spilling to her knees as he buried one of his hands in them while pushing her skirt out of the way.

When the skirt had fallen to the ground, he rocked back on his heels and just looked at her.  His gaze was so intense that it literally burnt her smalls off of her.  “Oh, Gaspard!”  She breathed.  She leaned over and kissed him, sliding down around him so her now naked perfection was plastered to his, only her low cut boots and one of her strapped on daggers were left.  Their tongues twined together as they explored each other’s magnificent bodies.  Then he lowered her to the ground and slowly pulled down his pants.  He wore no smalls and the manly sword of Orlais jutted out, long and proud; standing at attention for the woman it had chosen to be its future partner.

Syne gasped in delight.  The stable boy hadn’t been nearly so large or magnificent.  “If you’d just show them that, the Council would have made you emperor immediately.”

He chuckled.  “I didn’t think of it, my dearest.”  He kissed her legs that were smooth and shapely in just the right way until he reached her sacred chalice.  He dipped his tongue to taste of the chalice’s juices, savoring the taste of her delight as she moaned and clutched at his hair.  As her moans and gasps intensified, he could feel his turgid man meat straining to finally dip itself into her Chalice of Andraste.  He lifted his head and placed searing kisses of possession up her torso.  “I knew when I saw you tonight, the most beautiful creatures in all of Thedas, that I must have you for my empress.”  The kisses continued.  “You are the golden goddess that the Maker has gifted to Orlais and you must agree to rule over the puny peasants with me.”  His lips found hers and sealed the offer with a kiss of pure lust and love.

“Oh, yes, my dark conqueror, I’ll do it as long as you put that magnificent man flute in me and play it until we are both sated,” she begged.  “I need you to pierce me with your weapon of love and plunder my feminine gates!”  

He spread open her gates and plunged his mighty meat sword into her crying flower.  He withdrew almost to his magnificent tip and plunged back in again and again as she screamed her praises to the Maker.  Their activity attracted attention and others came out to see what was happening.  A few women fainted, not at the scandal but due to their envy that it was Syne who was at the receiving end of their emperor’s mighty lust sword.  Others saw the joining of the pair as the most beautiful thing ever and a sign that Orlais would rise again from the ashes of the civil war.  They too shouted praises to the Maker for just beholding the joining.

As Syne lifted her shapely hips to meet Gaspard’s, the man Sword of Orlais continued to plunder her blessed chalice and her voice became hoarse from crying out her extremely blissful pleasure.  His voice joined hers and all Orlais heard.  The joining was so magnificent that it began to heal the damages of the civil war.  Ditches in the Dales began to fill themselves in, buildings that had been burned by all sides repaired themselves, new vegetation flourished, and the people felt hope in their hearts again.  When the greatest bliss ever known to a woman exploded in Syne from Gaspard’s ministrations, the Western Approach bloomed with new life and turned green once more, repairing damage done in the Second Blight.

Gaspard followed her, crying out as he spilled the Seed of Orlais into her lush, blessed womb.  The effect of his first time in her caused rain to return to the Hissing Wasteland and its grounds became fertile once again, as the emperors seed to root to create new life in Andraste’s Herald’s tree of life.

Syne mewed in protest when he withdrew from her.  “No, my dark lord, stay in me.   I don’t know how I could have ever doubted that it was you who I wanted to take my pseudo-maidenhood from me.  I don’t want to be deprived of your most excellent love ambassador.”

“You will never have to me, my love,” he swore.  “It is just devising its next battle plans right now.”  He scooped her up and carried her through the ballroom to the royal wing.  There he took her into his private chambers so he could continue to dip his candy stick into her pot of honey all night.

In the morning, they both emerged from the wing, wearing dark colors; showing she had embraced this known villain as her mate.  His ring was on her finger and Orlais negotiated a marriage alliance with the Inquisition.


End file.
